


Space is Disease and Danger Wrapped in Darkness and Silence

by IceCreamCake



Series: I Cherish Thee [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-10 17:25:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7854319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceCreamCake/pseuds/IceCreamCake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Spock is actually a klutz and gets himself hurt all the damn time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Space Bees

“Spock! What the hell happened this time?”  
He and Dr. McCoy looked up, startled, as Lieutenant Uhura stormed into Sickbay, wearing fluffy purple slippers, pajamas, and an expression warring between irate and worried.  
“Well,” Spock began (and Nyota would be damned if she didn't detect a hint of guilt in that disciplined Vulcan tone), “our negotiations with the Xhyllr were proceeding according to plan, but there was an opposing faction of which their Chief's Council failed to inform us. They released several hundred stinging insects as an act of protest against the Federation alliance.” Spock regarded his swollen, green-tinged hands ruefully. “They were intended to be an annoyance only; unfortunately, it seems that Vulcans are allergic to the venom of these particular insects.”  
“'Allergic' is one hell of a Vulcan understatement, even for you,” interjected McCoy, scanning Spock again before pressing a hypo to his neck. “When Jim brought you up here, you were barely coherent and you looked like a lime-green balloon.”  
Nyota had folded her arms and was glaring at Spock through dark, narrowed eyes. Having finished for the time being, Bones looked between the two of them for a moment, then beat a hasty retreat, muttering something about biological samples by way of excuse.

The pair regarded each other for a moment before Nyota spoke.  
“This is the third time in as many months that you've been sick or injured and I had to learn about it from someone else. First Dr. McCoy tells me that you have food poisoning from an Andorian casserole when I ask why you're not at dinner two months ago. Then last month Scotty asks me how you're feeling after a plasma manifold in engineering fell on your head. And today the Captain commed my quarters to leave me a message, not realizing I would answer because I wasn't in Sickbay with you like he expected.” Nyota's voice cracked as she fought back tears of hurt and frustration. “Why, Spock? Why do you try to hide these things from me?”

Spock took her hand, initiating a tiny thread of telepathic link which was the only acceptable Vulcan way of sharing emotion, but he also allowed an almost-imperceptible trace of it soften his features, an element of his human side that he rarely showed. “My apologies, ashayam.” pain/love/concern/guilt. “I intended only to prevent you from worrying excessively; however, I see that my reticence has in fact produced the opposite of the intended effect.”

At that, all traces of Nyota's anger vanished. She sighed and put her arms around Spock, pressing a gentle kiss to the part of his forehead that looked the least sore. “I'm sorry. It's bad enough to be in Sickbay without your girlfriend walking in here and blowing up all over you.”

Spock drew back and looked at her quizzically. “You do not appear to have been blown up.”  
She rolled her eyes. “It's an idiom, Spock. Look it up in the linguistic database later.”  
“Very well.”

Dr. McCoy cautiously stuck his head around the corner, then strode back in. “Good to see you two made up. Now, Spock, I'm sending you back to your quarters for now, but you are to stay there for the next forty-eight hours, minimum, understand? You're not going on duty, and you're certainly not to go gallivanting around planets with unknown alien insects. And if I find out you've been trying to work from your quarters, I'll sic her on you,” he threatened, gesturing at Uhura, who laughed.

“Don't worry, Doctor. I'll be keeping a very close eye on this one.”

McCoy nodded with satisfaction. “Good. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go pry Jim out of whatever hidey-hole he's found this time so I can treat his insect bites. This is the first time I can think of that it hasn't been him in here having some sort of insane allergic reaction.”

“Of course, Doctor McCoy,” said Spock. “Thank you for your assistance.”

Bones nodded gruffly and left.

“Well, we'd better get you home,” Nyota said, helping Spock off the biobed.  
“Indeed,” said Spock. “I have some reports to . . .” he saw Nyota's face and changed tack. “That is, I will be much more comfortable in my own bed.”  
“Good boy, Spock.”  
“I am not a boy. I reached physical maturity at -”  
“Shut up, Spock.”


	2. Terran Flu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Spock, betrayed by a virus.

“Okay, Chekov, let's plot a course for that nebul-”

“ _ACHOO!_ ” The bridge went silent as Kirk slowly swiveled around to stare incredulously at the first officer, whose thunderous sneeze was still echoing around the room.

“Spock, was that you?”

“Yes, Cabtid,” Spock answered, the normal dignity of his tone somewhat subdued by the thick congestion of his nasal passages.

“Go to Sickbay, then. The last thing I need is my first officer compromised by a cold.”

“Cabtid, I assure you I ab fully capable of perforbig by duties. A visit to Sickbay would be a waste of Dr. McCoy's valuable tibe.” At this, Kirk grinned evilly and swiveled around to face the Comm station.

“Lieutenant Uhura!”

“Yes, Captain?”

“Escort Mr. Spock to Sickbay and use the rest of this day to make sure Mr. Spock follows the doctor's orders to the letter, please.”

“Why, certainly, Captain,” Uhura smirked, eyeing her patient (who was looking awfully apprehensive for a Vulcan). Rising, she strode over to the science station, grabbed her beleaguered shipmate, and cheerfully thrust him into the turbolift. “Deck 5!” The doors whooshed closed, and she looked over at Spock, who was eyeing her with an air of betrayal.

“It was dot decessary to madhandle be into the turbolift. I would have obeyed by orders.”

“Oh, I was just preventing the argument that would have otherwise ensued,” Nyota said, doing her best to maintain a straight face. “After all, we wouldn't want to waste the Captain's time with an argument he's only going to win. Besides, it's kind of nice to be the logical one for once.”

“I was being perfectly logical.”

“To quote Dr. McCoy, 'in a pig's eye you were.'” They had stepped out of the turbolift and were now in front of the Sickbay doors. Spock paused, but Uhura prodded his back meaningfully and with a small sigh, he stepped inside to the sound of Dr. McCoy energetically upbraiding one of the engineering staff.

“...and I don't care how many times you've done it before and been fine, every first-year cadet knows that you don't go tinkering around in the wiring without the appropriate protective eyewear. You know, a millimeter to the left and you could have severed your optic nerve! Oh, hi Spock, Uhura, be with you in a minute. Now, Ensign, you'll wear this regenerative patch for forty-eight hours, and your eye will be right as rain. But if I hear of you disregarding safety protocols again, you can be sure you'll go on report.”

“Doctor, I see you are busy. I'll cobe back aduther tibe.” McCoy raised an eyebrow.

“Not when you sound like that, you won't. Go sit on Biobed 3, I'll be there in a minute. Nurse Chapel, clean up over here for me, would you?” As Chapel bustled the halpless Ensign out the door, McCoy stuck his hands in the sonic wash, then grabbed his med tricorder and went to work on Spock.

“Really, doctor, this can wait. If there is sobethig bore pressing...” McCoy shook his head.

“It never fails. The stoic, logical types are the worst patients.” Spock sniffled in response, and Uhura rubbed his back sympathetically.

“Come on, Spock, we all have to suck it up and go to the doctor sometimes. Now stop being a big baby and tell him your symptoms. ALL of them.”

“I am a fully grown adult, not a large infant.”

“SPOCK.”

“Very well. Doctor, I am currently experiencing congestion in my sinuses, nasal passages, and chest. I am experiencing a headache and various body aches and I feel warm, which is unusual in an environment calibrated for humans.” McCoy nodded, examining the readout on his tricorder.

“Your temperature is also two degrees below normal, which is the Vulcan equivalent of a fever. Tell me, Spock, have you opened any sealed containers in the last two weeks?”

“Eleved days ago I opened a sealed receptacle contaidig proteid packs for the replicators as part of ad invedtory.”

“Well then, you are the lucky owner of a Terran flu, courtesy of whoever packed that container. I can give you an antiviral to shorten it, but I'm afraid you'll be under the weather for about 3 days, give or take.”

“I ab udfabiliar with that expression.” McCoy rolled his eyes.

“You will experience symptoms for approximately three days, with a margin of error of one day. If your symptoms extend beyond said margin of error, come see me again. Until then, I recommend rest and plenty of chicken soup.”

“Vulcads do dot codsube adibal pruducts.”

“Uhura, you explain that one later,” said McCoy, administering two hypos. “Okay, that was the antiviral, and this second one will alleviate the symptoms somewhat. I'll send a spare with you in case you don't feel like being a Vulcan martyr. Now go to your quarters, get some rest, and don't go back to the Bridge for at least 3 days.”

“Bery well, Doctor.” Spock slid off the biobed, adjusting his shirt and heading for the door.

“You'd better advise the Captain of Spock's orders, Doctor,” Nyota said, pitching her voice to carry to Spock's ears. “Otherwise he might decide he knows better than a trained medical professional.” Turning, Spock raised a hurt eyebrow (as they were his only usual means of emoting, Nyota had learned to read the subtleties of his eyebrow movements). “Don't look at me like that, Spock. We both know what happened after the incident on Denobula when you insisted on returning to the bridge with a broken rib.”

“And let me tell you, I hadn't planned to spend that afternoon repairing a punctured Vulcan lung,” added McCoy.

“I shall defer to your bedical advice, doctor,” said Spock meekly as Uhura ushered him out the door.

"Come on, Spock. It's time to go nurse that man-cold of yours."

"The doctor said it was Terran flu, dot a "ban-cold."

"Shut up, Spock."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a cold, so I decided to make Spock have one too, because I can.

**Author's Note:**

> Ashayam: Beloved  
> Xhyllr: pronounced k-shee-lur


End file.
